The clock strikes 12 all of the envious rats start spreading morbid lies that leaves this small town. Walking with their heads down
And heavy hearts when will this wistful disturbance will end
Bitter hands refusing to give to the poor or the dying dog.
Mornings are so sorrowful the birds
Don't chirp anymore the only thing that
Wakes them up is the torturous screams of
Mental illness that of been trapped for years trying to digest
Pills to even slightly function or even come to accept the unbearable act
The church is empty . dead silent the people are either lying in their deathbeds or
Hoping to make that day come soon. There are hard labor. The ones who fight for what's right and their families this town seems to far gone when looked at.
Lets not forget
It can shine as bright a diamonds,gold and the sunset combined. People walk
The streets as they admire the incredible work and talents of others. Kids play faithfully . prayers are being held. Will and giving hands appear this tunnel is dark at times but they will never give up